


The Weight of Millennia

by Luna_Myth



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Depression, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Immortality, Introspection, Light Angst, Light Suicide Ideation, Mental Health Issues, Post-Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, Present Tense, References to Canon, The Doctor (Doctor Who) Needs a Hug, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic, as much as i can figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24178975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_Myth/pseuds/Luna_Myth
Summary: The Doctor is hesitant to say she has never done something before, now. (AKA post The Timeless Children thoughts and character study.)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	The Weight of Millennia

**Author's Note:**

> didn't really see myself posting doctor who content in the year of 2020 but that combination of watching series 12 for the first time and quarantine, huh? hope y'all enjoy

The Doctor is hesitant to say she has never done something before, now. 

Even ignoring all foolery, she remembers twelve previous lives, twelve regenerations, which would make her the thirteenth version of herself. Time Lords are only supposed to have twelve regenerations. She already feels so old, sometimes, just thinking of those. The sheer volume of her existence can be a terrible burden. To think that there are even more selves of hers out there, even more years lived—perhaps the loss of her memories is a blessing in disguise, because the weight of those lives, she thinks, would crush her. 

She can’t be sure of anything anymore. She doesn’t know everything she’s done. But she thinks--she  _ hopes _ \--that some part of her is immutable. Her face changes, her quirks, her voice, some aspects of her behavior, but there is something inside her that makes her The Doctor. It’s like if you change every part of a computer, but keep the hard drive. It looks different, runs different, it seems hard to link it to anything outside itself, but the memories are still there, buried deep and sometimes inaccessible. There must be some core to who she is, so she thinks she can guess at what she’s done that she can’t remember, if she pulls the camera back enough, if she uses broad strokes. 

She’s a traveler. A pacifist. Someone who wants to help people. Someone who never stays in one place, but claims the whole universe as their home. Someone who would pick the name The Doctor and aspire to it. Aspire to be a healer, a fixer, a person of science and learning. Someone who does no harm. 

Whatever she might have done and had taken from her, it cannot be entirely inconsistent with who she is. Her regenerations are all different, yes, but there is that part of her that stays the same, that means she’ll find herself speaking in unison with one of her other selves, that means she  _ knows who she is _ , full knowledge of her history or no. 

She was not wrong when she told the Master that her past makes her more, but sometimes it’s hard to look at that as a good thing. Sometimes she is tired. Sometimes the weight of millennia is too much. Sometimes she is struck with such loneliness as she looks around the universe that she wishes she were  _ less _ . Humans, her favorite species, their lives come and go with some semblance of order, some level of predictability. They are born, they grow old, and they die. Even the Time Lords, long-lived as they are or were, were meant to meet their end eventually, but the Doctor sees no end for her in sight. If there is no end for her journey, where is she going? What is her destination? 

The idea of immortality seems so lonely to her. Not only is she immortal, but she is alone, and worse still, perhaps she always has been. She has no peer in this universe, no equals, and the people she had thought were like her, those who were closest to her existence, are gone once more, not that she had even been the same as them in the first place. Even on Gallifrey, she had been the last one of her kind, and now without them she is more alone than ever. 

Humans have other humans to give them an idea of their futures. The Time Lords had other Time Lords. Even the Ux, the duo race, have each other and a history upon which they can determine their place in the universe. 

But the Doctor doesn’t even know what she is or where she’s from anymore. Had she ever known? Were there others like her wherever she had come from, or has she always been alone? She suspects even getting her memories back would not answer that question. If she had ever had any idea of her own origin, surely she would have told someone at some point. It would have been recorded in some way, and the Master would have included more details in his account of the story. No, she imagines that her child self had had no idea of her origin. Just another mystery of the universe. 

She is alone in creation. Timeless. Eternal. Lonely. It seems foolish to speak of loneliness when she has friends, traveling companions, but they never stay for long, even the ones who want to. A few faces ago, one of her companions had told her she wanted to stay with her forever, but she hadn’t even had the privilege of watching her grow old before they were separated. Her current friends will leave her one way or another--it is inevitable. Even if nothing intervenes, she will outlive them. 

She thinks that is the worst part--not just them leaving, but the certainty they will leave. The lack of constancy in all her relationships. No one good ever stays with her indefinitely. Her only constants, with one exception, are those she would rather not see again, for they have done nothing but cause her pain. The Daleks. The Cybermen. The Master. It is just typical of her existence that her enemies always return when she knows she will never see a good many of her friends again. 

The TARDIS stays with her, though. There are many things she loves in this universe, but she prizes the TARDIS above all else. She is never more distressed than when she is separated from her ship, and she knows this can make her act selfishly, but the TARDIS is her _home_ , her one positive constant. Having the TARDIS doesn’t keep her from feeling lonely, but it does make her feel better, more stable in the universe. The Doctor wouldn’t be herself without the TARDIS, so she thinks she is allowed some small amount of paranoia over her safety. 

Is this how she is going to be for all of eternity? A lonely traveler, a mad person with a box. It’s a good life, mostly, she picked it herself after all, but for the first time she thinks how odd it is to not have goals, to not have a future in mind. She likes to live in the present, her present anyway, but as any time-traveler knows, eventually the present becomes the future, and what is she going to find there? 

The same as what she’s found in her past, she supposes. More pain and more joy. Losing more people and finding more people. The idea is exhausting, but it’s not like there’s anything she can do about it. She doesn’t have any choice but to live, and besides, some days she really likes being alive. That’s something, isn’t it? 

It’s good enough for now, and she has forever to find a better answer if one exists. 


End file.
